48 Hours
by PanicMoon15
Summary: Gale and Katniss have been getting closer recently and as they are required to remain under the same roof for 48 hours, how will their desires evolve? With mothers and siblings interrupting and no privacy, how will the two cope? Galeniss/Everthorne Katniss never reaped.
1. Chapter 1- Interruptions

_Gale and Katniss have been becoming closer and closer recently. With them trapped under the same roof for 48 hours, how will their desires flourish, or will they be forced to put their feelings aside as many siblings interrupt?_

I can't decide if it's a good day or a bad day.

It's a good day because the Capitol have declared the next 48 hours 'Open to Mandatory Viewing', which means we all have to keep our schedules open as we may be required to watch the television at any time. It also means Gale and I, and the rest of the kids, get the day off school. In addition to this, we do not have a working television in our house, which means we get to spend the next day living with the Hawthorne's and any extra time with my best friend is a good thing.

It's a bad day because everyone over the age of 18 has to take two days off work. Which means no pay, which in most people's cases isn't good, even for the merchants. It's also a bad day because with the impending instruction to turn on the television, the electricity will be on all the time and electricity equals electric fence and that means no hunting, which also equates to no privacy.

"Why do we _have _to watch the games today?" Prim asks, folding a small pink dress that was once mine, then hers and now will be gifted to Posy Hawthorne.

I shrug, but her back is to me and she doesn't see my motion. "Something important must be going to happen." I say and Prim stops what she's folding and turns to me.

"Important?" she asks.

I nod and hope she drops the subject. If she has no inclination as to why we will be forced to watch today and tomorrow, I don't want to tell her what I suspect.

Apparently my nod is enough for Prim and she goes back to folding and piling up some of our old clothes. I go back to sewing closed a hole in the seam of one of my old t-shirts that I have been working on for well over twenty minutes. I'm not particularly domestic, but a life of necessity has allowed me to gain some fair seamstress skills, but the thought of why we will be making the short walk over to the Hawthorne's house to watch the TV distracts me.

I expect this 48 hours 'Open to Mandatory Viewing' is down to this years Hunger Games almost being over. When it comes down to it, they want us to see the tribute become a victor, live. Last I heard, it was down to six, five careers and the boy from District 11, but I try not to hear. Even when the television is required to be on and we have to stay inside to watch, Gale and I try to occupy ourselves with other things, especially since our tributes are long gone.

Each year our tributes die is hard, but I knew both of them this year, which has made watching especially traumatising. The boy was in my year at school: Peeta Mellark. He didn't last long past the bloodbath. It was a shame. I never knew him well but Gale and I trade with his father, so we've spoken a couple of times. The girl, I knew too. Well, I knew who she was. Samia Cartwright. The younger sister of a girl in my year at school, only 13. A year older them Prim and Rory. People were betting she wouldn't last five minutes- she didn't.

I'm pulled from my thoughts of the Hunger Games by my mother calling my name.

"Katniss?" she prompts.

"What? Sorry?" I ask, oblivious to her original question.

She stands at the other end of the room, pulling a cardigan over Prim's shoulders. "I said 'will you hurry and finish fixing that shirt for Posy, we need to get going?'"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." I quickly close the hole in the fabric and pile it onto the other clothes we're taking over to the Hawthorne's. My mother and Prim carry a small basket each filled with food to contribute to the meals for the next 48 hours, leaving me to carry the pile of little girls' clothing.

The walk is short and so familiar to all three of us that we could do it in the dead of night (and I have) but Prim still stays close to our mother and constantly looks around at me as I trail slightly behind, thinking of the last time I walked this route in the dark. I blush at the thought of meeting Gale at two in the morning to go hunting for the nocturnal creatures. The feeling of the blush in my cheeks surprises me. Gale and I have had a very close but platonic friendship for years. The thought of meeting in the dark, no matter how innocent our intentions were, somehow rouses increasingly frequent and embarrassing thoughts inside of me. Thoughts that I've been struggling to control over the past few months.

Prim calls my name. I've been falling even further behind my mother and sister, lost in a fuzzy haze of Gale and blushes. I jog a few steps to catch up to them. There are Peacekeepers everywhere on the streets making sure we're all getting to where we need to be. Once upon a time every single house had a working television, but now there are many families who crowd into each other's houses to watch the games. Those who have nowhere to go spend the day in the square, waiting for it to appear on the large screen, cold and hungry.

We arrive at the Hawthorne's and walk inside without knocking. Hazelle is expecting us and she envelops Prim and my mother in a hug.

"The kids are out back." She informs Prim, who grins and carefully places down the basket of food before going to see her friends. Hazelle hugs me next and looks down at the bundle of fabric in my arms.

"For Posy." My mother explains, and begins doing something with the food in the kitchen.

"Oh, Katniss" Hazelle gushes, taking the t-shirt I had just fixed from the top of the pile. "You shouldn't have."

I feel awkward and my ears begin to get hot as a stutter out a "it's fine" and a "well, they don't fit us anymore".

Hazelle knows me well, perhaps even better than my own mother, and stops being so grateful at my discomfort. "Thank you." She states simply and gives me another hug.

"Your welcome." I smile. I'm about to ask where Gale is when Hazelle beats me to it.

"He's in mine and Posy's room" she nods over to the door. I must have a confused look on my face because she adds, "He's fixing one of the drawers in there."

"I'll take these through, then." I say and she gently pushes me in the direction of her room.

I walk over to the closed door and briefly wonder if I should knock. I decide there's really no point but even as I open it, I get a weird feeling, like I'm intruding being in Hazelle's room. Gale is sat cross-legged on the floor of the room, in front of the chest of drawers, pulling the middle one in and out. On hearing me enter, he looks up.

"Hey, Catnip." He grins, and I find myself grinning back, overwhelmingly happy that he's here, even though I was expecting him. "I'm just finished." He replies to my silent question.

I close the bedroom door with my foot and place the pile of clothes down onto the chest of drawers, which Gale leans against.

"What are…?" he begins to ask of the clothes by I cut him off with a hug. He stops talking and hugs me back, tucking my head under his chin and kissing the top of my braid. "You okay?" he mumbles into my hair. We hug fairly often, more often recently, but this sudden outburst of affection takes him by surprise.

I nod, and breathe him in deeply, savouring the smell of pine needles and just Gale. We stand like this for a few minutes, rocking slightly and Gale running his fingers up and down my back. "It's going to be today I bet." I say quietly, thinking of the impending death of five young people in that horrific arena.

"Yeah, or tomorrow." Gale suggests. He pulls away from me slightly, still keeping his arms around my waist.

"I'm so glad it's not you." I can't help saying it. I don't intend to, but thinking of those kids being murdered in the capitol gives me an overwhelming sense of gratitude that Gale is here with me, and that at 18 he never has to risk going there again. The thought of him having to eventually go down the mines like our fathers is quickly forced from my mind when Gale speaks into my hair.

"I'm glad it's not you either, Catnip." He mumbles.

I ruin the moment with an "It still might be." Murmured into his chest.

"Don't say that." Gale instructs, lifting my face so that our eyes meet, his grey and stormy. "Please" he begs, "do not say that."

I'm taken aback by his seriousness so much that I just agree to his request without any argument; not what my stubborn nature would usually allow. "Okay." I say quietly, and he rests his chin atop my head.

We're quiet for a few seconds until Gale speaks. "What did you bring?" he asks, looking at the clothing, changing the subject.

I smile gratefully at the alteration in our conversation. "They're for Posy. Just some stuff that doesn't fit Prim that we kept a hold of. Thought they might do for Posy."

"That's kind." He smiles.

"It's nothing." I assure him, shrugging.

Gale grins at me and pulls away completely. I'm somewhat saddened at our lack of physical contact until he takes my hand and pulls me over to sit with him on Hazelle and Posy's bed. He scoots back so that his back is against the wall and his legs can stretch across the width of the bed. I go to settle next to him but he pulls me onto his lap.

My cheeks flush at the gesture and I smile shyly at my best friend. It's weird because I've sat on his lap before, a lot. When out families get together I often perch on his knees so that someone else can have a seat, but this is different. For one, there's more than enough room for both of us, and secondly, we're on a bed. Somehow that makes this whole situation much more intimate. Thinking this makes me blush even more.

When I look up at Gale for the second time, he's wearing a rather worried expression on his face.

"Is..is this okay…I mean, I should have asked…um." He stutters, scratching the back of his neck.

I can't help but grin at his adorableness. "It's fine." I confirm, and in a sudden wave of bravery I shift even further up his lap so there's only a few layers of fabric between the most private parts of us.

He gulps, and places a hand on my thigh. "Is this…?" he asks, slowly moving his hand up my inner leg.

"Yeah." I breathe, feeling a sudden warm sensation flutter in my stomach at his unfamiliar actions.

We watch each other for a little while. Gale gently runs his fingers up my inner thigh and I allow my hands to roam underneath the hem of his navy t-shirt. I allow my fingers to touch each one of his toned muscles in turn, gradually making it higher up his body. He gasps at the feeling of my fingers on his bare skin and I smile, proud I can elicit such a reaction from him even though this is my only experience with this variation of activity.

Gale stops touching my leg and stills my hands with his own. I look up at him questioningly, worried that I might have done something wrong. "Y-you might need to move off my lap if you keep doing that." He says, grinning sheepishly.

I smile devilishly, realising I have in fact done the opposite to something wrong, and make a move as if I am about to stand. Instead I simply readjust my position on his lap, grinding myself against his crotch. Gale hisses and swallows thickly.

"Katniss…" he warns but this only encourages me and I slip a hand back up his t-shirt.

Gale rests a hand on my thigh and the other on my back, an indication that any reluctance he previously had to our position is now gone. I lay my head on his chest and watch the mound of my hand hidden by the navy fabric, travel up his torso. I bite my lip when my thumb finds his nipple and I circle it a couple of times. His groan sends a sudden throb between my legs, which is only increased when I feel him move under me, growing hard.

"Can I?" He asks, moving his hand from my clothed thigh, under my own top. I nod, my own hand stilling in on his chest. Gale pushes a thumb in the top of my pants and I gasp. He stops at the sound but I look up at him and silently plea him to continue his voyage. He does.

He undoes the button on my dark jeans with his nimble fingers, keeping his thumb under the hem. He moves his hand slowly down, taking the zip with him. It's nothing like I've ever experienced before. I'm somewhat familiar with the throb and growing wetness between my legs, but a lack of privacy and experience has never allowed me to take touching myself any further than a few minutes of experimentation when bathing. Feeing Gale's fingers reach lower and lower is building a new coil of feelings deep in my stomach. My heartbeat increases. A calloused finger reaches lower than the others and I gasp as it catches the bundle of nerves, sending electricity buzzing through me like the electric fence. The finger dips even lower and I gasp as Gale delves in to my wetness. He kisses my temple, letting his lips linger and another finger finds my clit again. I groan in pleasure when the bedroom door flies open.

Gale retracts his hands from my jeans but keeps them wrapped around me, clasped on my lower abdomen. I'm about to rip his hands away from me in embarrassment when I realise that he's picked the lesser of two evils: someone catching us with his hands down my pants, or someone catching us in a fairly intimate hug- his hands covering my undone trousers, and my body covering his apparent arousal.

I look up from his hands on my stomach to the person in the doorway and let out a breath I was unaware I was holding, escape. Little Posy Hawthorne stands at the entrance to the bedroom with a confused look on her face. At five years old, she's simply confused as to why we're hugging on her and her mother's bed. She suspects nothing else.

"Can I help you?" Gale asks of our uninvited guest, and I'm impressed at the normalcy of his voice when I can still feel his evidence of our activities beneath my bottom.

Posy blinks and the confused expression disappears, giving way to one of elation. She bounds over to the bed, climbing on and throwing her arms around me. I automatically hug her back but Gale doesn't remove his hands from my stomach.

"Prim said you brought me new clothes, Katniss." She grins and leans forward to give me a kiss.

"Well, Prim is correct." I say and impress myself with the normalcy of _my_ voice. "Why don't you take a look at those over there?" I point towards the pile of faded pinks and lilacs and Posy's face lights up.

She climbs off the bed and runs over to the dresser to inspect the clothes. Posy carefully lifts them down and begins opening each folded item out with such care that it almost breaks my heart. The clothes are old and worn and most of them have obvious patches and stitches in them, but Posy's eyes are wide with wonder when she asks "They're all for _me_?"

"All for you." I confirm and she goes back to pouring over each item.

When I'm sure she's distracted enough, I pull myself away from Gale and turn my back to her, facing him. He smirks as I zip up my fly and button my pants. I look down at his own pants and can see that the intrusion of his youngest sibling has now killed any evidence of our explorations. Mine however, is still uncomfortably wet in my underwear.

Gale lifts the fingers of the hand that had less then five minutes ago been down my pants to his lips. The throb in my underwear returns as his casually licks his fingers. I'll get him back for that, I think, as another body enters the room.

"Come on, guys. Dinner's ready." Rory informs us.

"Okay, we're coming." Gale replies from the bed.

Rory remains in the doorway as I turn away from Gale. He fixes both of us with the very same look Posy awarded us a few minutes ago. One of complete and utter confusion. "Why are you on the bed?" he asks, and I feel my eyes go wide and my face pale. Rory Hawthorne is not his innocent five-year-old sister.

"They were cuddling." Posy informs him casually, without looking at him, pulling a pink dress on over her clothes.

Rory looks at Gale, then me, then back at Gale. I follow his lead and slowly turn to Gale. It angers me to see how unaffected by this situation he looks. I'm slowly dying of embarrassment and he looks anything but.

"Cuddling?" Rory asks and I actually can't help but smile at the edge of disgust I can hear in his voice. Innocent or not, he's still very much a twelve year old boy.

"Yeah." Gale confirms, and my smile dies, as my desire to slap him becomes top priority. "We're coming, Rory." He says again and I hear Rory's footsteps as he leaves the room followed by some lighter, Posy-sized, ones.

I slap Gale on the chest. Hard. And then we follow the kids out to the kitchen for dinner.


	2. Chapter 2- Tickles and Torture

We follow the two kids into the kitchen where my mother and Hazelle are plating up dinner for each of the children. Prim carries a plate for herself and a plate for Posy into the living room, placing them on the threadbare rug next to the equally threadbare couch. There's only six chairs which fit around the kitchen table and two of them have been dragged into the living room at some point, presumably in preparation for when we must all gather around the television.

Vick stands at the edge of the table waiting for his plate next, but Rory nudges him out of the way muttering something about being "older and more important". Vick automatically turns to Gale at this injustice, but Gale has already seen this transaction and drags Rory back by the collar of his shirt. Vick smirks and sticks his tongue out at his slightly older brother, taking his plate and going to sit with our sisters. For a second I think Rory is going to fight with Gale as he squares up his narrow shoulders and pulls hard out of Gale's grasp, and I am overwhelmed with a sudden fear that he will voice the knowledge that Gale and I were 'cuddling'. However, my fears are quashed when Gale gives him a warning look and Rory turns away without another word, accepting the authority of his older brother.

Once Rory has taken his dinner and left the room, Gale's face softens and he sighs, sitting down at the kitchen table. "He's getting worse, that kid." He says to no one in particular.

Hazelle places a plate of food in front of her eldest and pats him on the shoulder. "He's just getting older. You know, getting to _that_ age." She smiles and kisses Gale on the cheek.

"I was never like that at his age." Gale comments, watching his mother place three plates at the other three spots on the table.

Hazelle doesn't reply and I look back at Gale. He looks up and our eyes meet briefly, but he quickly looks back down at his plate of food. I grip the back of the chair opposite him with white knuckles and think about his own fingers, causing me to blush. The window at the other end of the room, looking out onto the Seam, suddenly becomes very interesting as I wait for my blush to pass.

"Katniss" my mother says, and I jump, somehow thinking she may have heard my less than pure thoughts of my best friend, but she only nods towards the chair I'm gripping and I realise I'm the last to take my seat. I sit down, keeping my eyes trained on my plate.

We begin eating. For a while none of us speak as we attempt to rid ourselves of the hollow emptiness a day of unwanted fasting has caused. We focus on our own plate of rabbit stew and small pile of canned vegetables. I think of our morning yesterday when Gale and I caught this very rabbit and traded a few more in the hob for the greens. Thinking of days spent hunting with Gale is my own way of getting myself to slow down and savour my last meal of the day. When I glance sideways at my mother, I can see she too is attempting to slow herself, putting her fork down on the table between each bite. It's a common occurrence in the Seam, silence during a meal; too hungry to place the priority of conversation over the ingestion of food.

I jump slightly when I feel something brush against my leg. My hunter's senses cause me to overreact slightly, earning me a cautious look from my mother.

"Sorry." I mumble, and she goes back to eating, shaking her head slightly.

I feel the pressure on my calf again and look up to see Gale looking at me through thick eyelashes. He runs his foot up my calf until he reaches the back of my knee, then stops and looks away. I can't decipher, what, if anything, that gesture was meant to mean, and after a few moments deliberating and coming to no conclusion, I go on eating.

Eventually I hear the children in the other room laughing and Posy squealing, an indication that they have finished their food. I look down at my own plate where I have only a few greens left. I make the conscious decision to remember this last mouthful of food for the day, when Gale speaks.

"I was never like that at his age." He says.

Chewing the canned greens, I glance up at him. Gale is looking at his mother, waiting for her to comment and it takes me a minute to process what on earth he's talking about. It occurs to me that his mind is still on Rory's behaviour from before we began eating. Gale is Rory's brother, he shouldn't have to worry about the twelve year olds behaviour, but then again, I am Prim's sister and I have practically raised her for a fair portion of her life. We have very similar lives Gale and I.

Hazelle shrugs, pushing her empty plate towards the middle of the table. "No you weren't like that a his age." She smiles sadly at him and her eyes flick to my mother then to me. Her eyes linger on me for a second before going back to settle on Gale. "You never got the chance to be like that."

I look down at my hands in my lap, feeling like by watching I am somehow intruding on a personal moment between Hazelle and her eldest son. When I look back up, Hazelle is piling the plates into the centre of the table and my mother is putting the cutlery into the sink. I feel as though I should offer to do the dishes, given that Hazelle is essentially saving me from having to spend the next two days in the square, but Gale volunteers us both to check on the kids and so I follow him blindly into the living room.

When we enter, Rory is being pinned to the ground by Vick and Prim, and Posy is tickling him fiercely under the arms. I can't help but let out a snort of amusement at his predicament. Gale seems to have the same opinion, as he too, smirks at the picture.

"Gale" Rory pants between bouts of pained laughter "Gale!" he squeals girlishly, causing myself and Gale to fall into our own fits of giggles. "Get them off!" Rory growls and comes dangerously close to hitting his younger sister with his flailing arms.

At this, Gale intervenes. I am too consumed with hysterics to help at all and just flop into a chair and attempt to regain some composure.

"Right guys" Gale says, walking over to the pile of children. He attempts to sound stern but I can still hear the laughter in his voice. "Leave him alone, he's outnumbered. It's not a fair fight."

Posy, Vick and Prim obey and climb off Rory, who remains horizontal on the floor, recovering from the exhaustion of being tickled so violently. Having somewhat recovered from my hysterics, I'm about to suggest we all play a less combative game, but before I can even open my mouth, Gale has hoisted Rory up by his ankles.

"What are you-?" Rory begins to ask as Gale holds him upside down at arms length. He walks over to where I'm sitting, and the sheer image of Rory's rage, now upside down, begins to induce more laughter.

"You see" Gale says casually, holding his younger brother right in front of me. "Katniss is sixteen. And I am- how old kids?" Gale looks over to where Prim, Vick and Posy are observing with grins plastered on their faces.

Posy's skinny arm flies into the air as if she were answering a question at school.

"Yes Posy?" Gale prompts.

"Eighteen!" she answers excitedly.

"Correct! And how old is _Rory_?" Gale asks, still holding his brother by the ankles, demonstrating some impressive strength.

I copy Posy, putting my own hand in the air.

"Katniss?" Gale grins.

"I do believe," I say dramatically and Prim and Posy giggle, "that young Rory here, is twelve."

"Correct Katniss. And _I _do believe that means that we are older. Does it not?"

I nod in agreement.

"And therefore" Gale pauses, hoisting Rory's ankles over his shoulders so that his back lays flat on Gale's chest and his face is level with mine, "if we are older, then _we_ are more important."

I see a flash of recognition in Rory's expression as he recalls his own words to his younger brother. Somewhere in that expression I'm sure that I can see some regret.

"If you would do the honours, Katniss." Gale says, and with an unspoken instruction I begin to tickle Rory under his arms.

He thrashes about, but Gale is much stronger, and holding him upside down, has great advantage over his brother so I continue to torture the poor twelve year old.

Once Gale seems to think Rory has learned his lesson, or that keeping him upside down any longer might be dangerous (Rory's face becoming redder by the second), he lowers him down onto the floor.

"And that, children" Gale declares dramatically "is why you are _always_ kind to everyone, because you never know who might have a huge older brother."

Rory stands and straightens out his clothes with a glare to Gale and I.

"Come on, guys", he says to the other kids "let's go play outside." They follow him out of the back door into the small yard.

"Do _not_ leave the back yard." I call after them and Prim gives me a lazy mock salute in acknowledgement before closing the door behind her. I smile at her action and look up at Gale to find he mirrors my expression.

All at once I suddenly become aware that we are again alone in the same room. It's a strange feeling to be so awkward around Gale because it's never really been an issue before. The silence between us has always been a comfortable refuge but right now it feels palatable. We are both waiting for the other to speak.

"We should-."

"So what do-?"

We both say simultaneously before falling silent again. Gale looks down at me.

"You go." He says, his cheeks an unfamiliar tinge of pink.

"Er, I was just going to say maybe we should tidy the room." I stutter out, looking away from Gale at the kids' empty plates, which litter the floor. Gale says nothing and I reluctantly look back up at him, willing my own cheeks to remain what I hope is their normal olive.

His blush is gone and his grin has taken on a devilish charm. Any resolve I had is now gone and I can feel the heat rising in my face. He still says nothing and I awkwardly let a high-pitched "What?" fall from my lips.

Gale's eyes glint and he laces his hands together, stretching them high above his head. He lets out a groan of satisfaction and I feel my face darken even more as my eyes are drawn to the bare skin and dark scattered hairs, which are revealed as his t-shirt rises. I can see the indentations of his stomach muscles, leading to somewhere obscured by the hem of his underwear, peeking above his pants. The sight makes my mouth go dry.

"I'm just" he lowers his arms and I follow the hem of his shirt as it closes the gap between his pants "so tired!" he fakes a yawn and stretches his arms out wide.

I smile at his actions. A proper, genuine smile because his ridiculousness amuses me and I know it's not often that we really get the opportunity to act this stupid anymore, and not care. "Maybe you should sit down." I suggest and he steps closer to me, invading my personal bubble. Not that I mind.

"Oh" he says quietly, crouching down so that our faces are level and I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips, "I intend to."

I don't even get a second to consider what that could possibly mean before he has turned around and splayed himself across my lap, crushing me under his weight.

"Gale!" I half yell, half laugh. "Get off!"

He ignores me and instead lifts his feet off the ground so that his whole body is balanced on top of mine. My legs begin to feel numb as he cuts off the circulation and my attempts at kicking him become inadequate.

"Gale!" I shout again, attempting to push him off me but completely failing.

"You're right, Katniss." He calls over my yells, "Sitting down is just what I needed." He shifts his weight so that I can barely breathe from the combination of laughter and force on my chest, but I manage a few more yells, though they come out muffled by his back against my face.

Still gasping from laughter, I punch his back, not even making a difference. A sudden thought occurs to me inspired by my treatment of Rory, and I begin tickling Gale's sides. He gasps and squirms on my lap, causing me more pain than anything, but his squeals more than make up for the pain. Gale slides down my lap and onto the floor at my feet but I don't stop my onslaught.

Tears blur my view of him and my chest burns as my hysterics overtake and I'm sure I'm hyperventilating. My cheeks ache from the grin, which never leaves my face. I push his shirt up higher so I can tickle even more of his torso without the protection of the thin layer of navy fabric.

"St-stop! Katnisssssss!" Gale yells, attempting to claw himself away from me, flipping onto his stomach.

I take advantage of his weakness caused by the tickling and flip back him over, stopping his route across the living room floor. Once I have him on his back, I climb over him so that I'm siting with my legs on either side of his torso, my own weight pinning his hips to the ground.

I stop tickling Gale to compose myself more than anything else, and he looks up at me with an expression of faux- hurt. "What did I _ever_ do to you, Katniss Everdeen?" he says in the most pathetic voice he can muster.

Gale looks up at me with puppy-eyes. He's completely at my mercy and something deep within me stirs. I like that I am the only one who cam dominate Gale in this way, because I may be inexperienced but I'm certainly not naive. I am very aware that I am essentially straddling my best friend, and should I want to, I could really have him begging for mercy.

When I fail to reply to his question, Gale raises his brows at me. I rest my hands on his exposed sides, rubbing circles with my thumbs, where minutes ago I had been torturing him, soothing the pink-tinged skin. Gale's acting has stopped, as has my own. He places his hands on my forearms, stroking up and down, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake.

"Hmm?" he prompts, eyes dark, "What did I ever do to you, Catnip?" Gale reaches up and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger on my face. He runs his thumb down my cheekbone to the curve of my lips. I take a sharp inhalation of breath when he strokes my bottom lip. Gale lets his thumb take residence against my lips; our eyes stay connected. I pout, and press my lips harder to his thumb in a kiss. "Catnip?"

"I was going to ask if you could clean up the kids' plates but I can see that you're already busy." Hazelle's voice from behind me, hits me like a ton of bricks, and I practically throw myself off Gale as he sits up beneath me.

The whole movement is so rushed and uncoordinated that Gale ends up head-butting me in the shoulder and I awkwardly roll off him onto the floor. I shuffle next to Gale so we're both sitting hip-to-hip, facing Hazelle, like two kids who have just been caught doing something they certainly shouldn't be. I suppose that's exactly what we are.

I don't dare look at Gale's mother, so instead I train my eyes on him. If I weren't so embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising position, I would think Gale's expression funny, as it is, I can completely relate to his sheer look of horror and mortification.

"We were…" he trails off, one of the few times I have _ever_ known Gale to be speechless.

"Yes?" Hazelle prompts and I gather up enough courage to steal a glance at her. She watches us both with amusement.

"We were…playing." I find myself saying, and I can feel Gale's eyes on me. I look over at him and he stares at me incredulously, mouth gaping open. It's at this point that I realise my attempt to convey our actions as innocent has completely backfired. "A game…you know…like tickling…" I stutter and Gale continues to stare. "I…er.."

"Katniss" he says with desperation, "stop. Please, stop."

"What I mean is-." I try to correct myself.

"Katniss" Gale begs "just shut _up._"

I close my mouth and go back to looking at the floor. My ears feel hot and I feel Gale's hand coming to rub my back inconspicuously. Whether this is for my benefit or his, I cannot say, but it feels nice and I lean into his hand, forgetting the presence for his mother for a brief second. It seems Gale has too, because Hazelle feels the need to clear her throat to get our attention.

"Gale, Katniss." She says, and our heads whip up. "Just clear the plates. We'll all be out back if you need us."

We nod and begin to stand as Hazelle turns to leave. Gale has already begun to pick up the plates and cutlery at the other side of the room, but I hear Hazelle say, presumably to my mother, "I doubt they'll need any of us."

I can't say I disagree.


	3. Chapter 3- Sleeping Arrangements

We spend the next twenty minutes clearing up in silence. Gale takes over washing the plates in the kitchen and I remain in the living room, tidying and then pointlessly re-tidying everything I can. The room is sparse of furniture leaving me practically nothing to occupy myself with. It's when I begin sorting the odd few used books and toys Hazelle and the kids have collected over the years, into the cardboard box in alphabetical order, that I realise I'm just wasting time and purposely avoiding Gale. I assume he is doing the same thing; it does not take twenty minutes to clean four plates and four sets of cutlery.

I push the box of 'toys' into the corner of the room, kick off my shoes and flop down onto the sofa, dislodging the cushions, which I've just previously organised. Gale is still in the kitchen. I have no idea what he's doing in there, but I can hear the clang of cutlery and the scrape of plates, and I wonder if he too, is doing some pointless reorganisation to avoid me. The thought makes me feel uneasy. We never avoid each other, and if we both plan to keep this up for a while, the next two days are going to be difficult. Gale's house is only so big; we can't exactly hide from each other forever.

"Sorry."

I look over at the door to the kitchen, where Gale stands looking sheepish, a hand rubbing the back of his head.

"Sorry." He says again, this time sure I'm listening.

My eyebrows knit together and I push myself higher on the sofa so that I'm sitting on my legs to get a better view. "Why are you sorry?" I ask, because I can't really think why he should be.

Apparently he can't either, because he looks at me with a panicked expression and slowly says, "I don't know."

I laugh at him, and this must indicate that I am not mad with him, because Gale lets his panic melt into a small smile. "I don't think you're the one who needs to be sorry." I explain. He comes and sits next to me on the couch. "I'm the one who tackled you and got us into that…" I pause, searching for the right word, "…predicament."

Gale kicks off his shoes and lifts his long legs up onto the sofa, resting his feet on my lap. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have _had_ to tackle me if I hadn't sat on you." He counters and I nod.

"Yeah you're right." I say and Gale's face falls. "This is all _your_ fault." His panic has returned. I pat his legs. "Apology accepted."

Gale lets out a sigh of relief and lets his head fall back. "I thought you were going to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you." I assure him.

He looks over at me poignantly. "Yes, but I _thought_ you were going to be. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me."

I smile and play with the ripped hem of his pants, pulling lightly at the strands of fabric, tattered by years of getting caught on brambles in the woods. "I could never stay mad at you, Gale." I say and look over at him. He smiles back and my sweet smile morphs into a cheeky grin. "Actually, I definitely _could_ stay mad at you. If I had something to be mad about, I could totally outlast you in a battle of 'who can stay angry the longest?'"

Gale shoves one of his feet in my face. "I don't doubt it, Catnip." He laughs, as I push his foot away with a glare in his direction.

There's a knock at the back door and we both look towards the dusty window to the side of it. Vick and Rory have their faces pressed against the glass and are making stupid faces at Gale and I, much the amusement of Prim and Posy who I can hear laughing hysterically from another part of the yard. Gale launches one of the cushions from behind his back at the window, but it doesn't even make his brothers flinch as it lifelessly falls to the floor.

"Boys!" I hear Hazelle shout, and Vick and Rory both whip around, their backs obscuring our view to the yard.

The back door opens and my mother walks in, Prim and Posy following with smirks on their faces. I can hear Hazelle talking sternly to her sons, although I can't make out any real words. Prim skips over to where I am sitting, Gale's legs still draped over me. Posy follows and sits herself down on the floor next to Prim's feet.

"Vick and Rory are getting told off." Prim smiles, looking from me to Gale.

"Well try not to look _to_ happy about it." I say, and she looks away sheepishly.

"Go on, both of you." Hazelle says, pushing the two boys in the house, ahead of her. Rory and Vick both look at the floor but I can see their faces are filthy from the coal dust on the windows, their clothes look just as dirty too. "Now go and get cleaned up, get changed and ready for bed." Their mother orders, and both boys look up to her with horror.

"Bed?!" Rory asks disbelievingly.

"But it's only seven o'clock!" Vick adds.

"I am aware of the time." She says to her sons. "Now go."

They march off to the bathroom, pushing each other and muttering insults as they go. Gale watches them with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"And you", Hazelle says slightly louder. Gale looks up and his face falls as he realises she is talking to him.

"What did _I _do?" he asks.

Hazelle picks up the cushion from the floor next to the window and throws it in Gale's direction. It nearly strikes me and I have to duck to avoid being hit, but Gale leans forward and catches it, cockily stuffing it behind his head with a cheeky grin to his mother.

Hazelle rolls her eyes at him and walks towards the kitchen, smacking the back of his head playfully as she passes. "No throwing cushions in the house." She sighs and Gale mutters an apology. My mother goes to follow Hazelle but is stopped in her tracks when Hazelle turns back to Gale with a second thought. "No throwing cushions _outside_ either."

"Yes, mother dearest." He calls in a singsong voice, causing Hazelle and my mother to grin and shake their heads at him.

Once our mothers are in the kitchen and only the girls, Gale, and I are in the living room, Prim sits down on the arm of the sofa next to me. "So, have you decided where you're going to sleep, then?" she asks, looking at Gale and I.

I look towards Gale, thankful that he looks just as puzzled as I am feeling. "Well, I was thinking of sleeping in my _bed_. You know, like I usually do." He answers.

Prim shakes her head. "Oh I forgot, you wouldn't have been able to hear us." She says.

"Hear what?" I ask, no less confused than I was before.

"Well, when we were in the yard, Hazelle and Mom decided where everyone is going to sleep tonight." She declares.

"What's wrong with where we usually sleep when we stay here?" Prim looks somewhat horrified at my question. "What?"

"Katniss, I'm _twelve_ now." Prim says and I look at Gale hoping he might have an explanation. He shrugs.

"And?" I dare to ask, and Prim stands up and crosses her arms.

"I can't sleep in the same room as a", she whispers the final word, "_boy_."

The look on her face tells me that I should have known this was obvious, so I just nod. "Right." I say and Prim, satisfied, sits back down on the arm of the couch.

I think for a moment and attempt to get my head around how many beds for how many people we have, now that Prim has decided she cannot share a room with Rory or Vick. In past years, the eight of us have slept in the practically the same way and that always worked out fine, if a bit cramped.

Rory and Vick's two single mattresses in their room slept four of us; Rory and Vick sharing one, and Prim and I, the other. Hazelle and Posy's double bed was occupied by my mother, Hazelle and Posy. And Gale slept on the mattress in his own room. The room that had many years ago been a room for coal storage, but that Gale and his father had reinforced and made large enough for a single mattress to fit in. Not long after finishing it both of our fathers had died in the mine explosion.

I shudder at the thought and think back to the sleeping arrangements. Something occurs to me and I address Prim. "How come you can't share with the boys now you're twelve, but I've shared with them just as much as you?"

Prim looks at me again as if the answer to this were obvious. "Because you're not _twelve_." She says. I look over to Gale, who again helps by shrugging. I have no idea why this matters so much to Prim, perhaps this is something that is discussed amongst friends at school and I've just been completely oblivious. Either way, I'm more concerned about where I am going to sleep tonight.

"So where _is_ everyone sleeping?" I ask and it is Posy who answers me.

She jumps up from her position on the floor and starts counting off everyone on her fingers. "Vick and Rory sleep in their room. Your mommy and my mommy sleep in my room. And me and Prim" Posy skips over to Prim and hugs her legs, "sleep in Gale's room!"

"And I get no say in this?" Gale asks amusedly.

"No." Hazelle pipes up from behind us. I crane my neck around to look at her standing at the doorway to the kitchen with my mother. "Great plan" Gale continues, "but where are Katniss and I going to sleep?"

"You choose." My mother says, leaning on the doorframe. "You'll probably have to sleep on the floor somewhere, but it's your choice."

"Gee, thanks." I say a bit too sarcastically and my mother shoots me a look.

Hazelle smiles, undeterred by my sarcasm. "Well, there's enough room for one of you in the boys room and one of you in my room." Gale and I glance at each other with equal expressions of distaste. Both of the those floors are void of any rugs or even any type of indoor surface, only concrete. "_Or_" Hazelle says and both of us look back to her, "you can both sleep in here. One on the couch, one of the floor."

I look to Gale and it takes us less than a second to have a silent discussion. "Here." Both of us answer, and Hazelle looks to my mother.

"Told you." She mutters and my mother giggles.

"What was that?" I ask, sitting up straighter.

They both answer "Nothing" far too fast for my liking.

"Prim" Hazelle says, and I can tell by her tone she's making an effort to change the subject, "could you take Posy into my room and get her ready for bed."

Prim nods and holds her hand out to Posy who is pouting at her mother. The four year old folds her arms in defiance. "Please can I stay up longer, momma?" she pleads.

"Once you're ready for bed you can come back out for a little while." Hazelle smiles and Posy's face lights up.

"Come on, Posy. There's some pyjamas in that pile of new clothes Katniss and I brought over." At Prim's words Posy grins and runs ahead of her into the bedroom. Prim follows and closes the door behind her.

"Gale, can you change the sheets in your room?" his mother asks.

"But they're clean." He whines and I giggle at his childishness.

Hazelle gives him a look. "For you maybe, but Posy and Prim do not want to sleep in amongst your teenage stench."

At this I burst out laughing, earning a disapproving look from Gale. I can't help but laugh at the reference to Gale's 'teenage stench', because after years of spending many hot days out hunting with him in close proximity, I know exactly what that teenage boy stench can entail.

"Come on" I say, smacking his legs lightly to get him to move, "I'll help you change them."

We stand and make our way over to Gale's tiny bedroom. He takes a sheet and a blanket from the pile of laundry at the other side of the living room and follows me. Gale's bedroom is so small that the door doesn't actually open fully into the room, once you push it open it only extends about a foot before it hits the edge of the mattress and you have to squeeze through.

I go first, seeing as only one person can really fit through at a time, and take the pile of bedclothes from Gale on the other side. I stumble over his mattress to get to the small area of standing space not occupied by either of the two pieces of the furniture in the room; the mattress and a dresser. He squeezes through next, closing it behind him and walking over his bed and sitting in the middle of it, crossing his legs to take up less room.

Gale pats the space on the mattress next to him.

"We're meant to be changing the sheets." I remind him.

"They're not even dirty." He repeats his words from earlier.

"But Gale-."

"So" he interrupts me, "maybe we could at least make sure they need to be changed?" it comes out more as an uncertain question than as a viable suggestion as I sense it was meant to, but the forwardness still takes me by surprise.

I blush violently and turn away from him, putting the sheets on top of his dresser. "Gale, we can't." I say quietly, turning back to him. He looks genuinely disappointed and his expression makes me smile.

"What?" he says at my own expression.

"I just, you." I stutter.

"What about me?"

"You, you just make me smile." I admit.

Gale grins. "Same." He pats the bed again and I give in, sitting down next to him, our hips touching.

We scoot back so that we can rest our backs against the wall, and stretch out our legs in front of us. When I look across at Gale, he's already watching me with stormy eyes. He reaches out tentatively and brushes his fingers over my cheek, making my breath hitch.

"You really do make me smile, Catnip." Gale smiles and moves his fingers from my cheek to my earlobe, massaging it gently. "You've always made me smile. You know that, right?" his eyes plead with me to understand the deeper meaning of his words. Words that just cannot be spoken yet, but perhaps can be understood. And I do understand.

"Yes. I know. And you" I let my hand find Gale's thigh and begin rubbing it gently, "you make me smile every day."

Gale leans forward, his hand falling from my ear to wrap around my waist, gently pulling me closer. His face is so close to mine that our noses bump. "Every day?" he whispers.

I nod and our noses touch again. "Every" I tilt my head even closer, "single" and bring my hand up to his face, cupping his jaw, "day." With a deep breath and more certainty than I have ever possessed in my entire life, I push my lips against Gale's in a lingering kiss.

The arm around my waist tightens and our eyes fall closed. When it ends, Gale rests his forehead against mine. I dare to open my eyes but his remain closed. We don't say anything, just bask in the aftermath of a perfect moment and allow the magnitude of the moment seep in.

I have just kissed Gale. My best friend. My hunting partner. Gale. I have just kissed him.

And he kissed me back.

A small voice somewhere in my peripheral consciousness tells me that just earlier today Gale and I did some things which should dull the vastness of this kiss, but despite our earlier actions, this seems much more significant. The lust we shared in the moment on Hazelle's bed was just that- lust; hormones and excitement and probably had something to do with unwanted thoughts of the Games and the next couple of days. This is different.

This kiss, it wasn't down to lust. I kissed Gale because he makes me smile, and he kissed me back for the same reason.

"Catnip?" Gale asks. He has opened his eyes and it watching me from under black lashes.

"Mmm?" is all I can manage at the moment.

One hand still on my waist, Gale reaches the other up to hook around my neck and pull me in for another kiss. It's different to the first. We're less hesitant, both of us now confident we reflect the other's desires. Gale's lips move beneath mine and he pushes the fingers at my neck into my braid from underneath.

I try to move closer to Gale, but the way we are sitting, hip-to-hip, is making it very difficult. Reluctantly, I break the kiss. Gale looks at me with silent question and I answer him by hooking a leg over his, and sitting on his lap. Our position replicates that of the predicament Hazelle caught us in earlier, but this position is for so much more than tickling.

We both smile at this new position. Gale pulls me further up his lap so our chests press together. His hands rest on either side of my torso, pushing the fabric of my t-shirt up so that they can rest skin-to-skin. I run a hand through Gale's hair, letting it land and take residence on the back of his neck.

I lean in for another kiss but stop, millimetres from Gale's lips, much to his dismay. He searches my eyes for answers, running his hands up under my top, fingers grazing my bare back.

"What're you thinking?" he asks and his lips brush mine lightly as he speaks.

"Honestly?" I ask.

"The truth." Gale clarifies, and I smirk. "What?"

"You're not going to like it." I warn, my smirk still firmly in place.

"Try me."

I push forward as seductively as I can manage (though the lack of practice means it comes off a bit awkward, but Gale doesn't seem to mind) and press my mouth to Gale's ear. He inhales sharply and I can feel him twitch where I sit.

I whisper in his ear. "We still need to change the sheets."

When I pull away, Gale is looking at me with an unimpressed expression. "I hate you." He says, but there's mirth in his eyes.

He pulls me to him roughly and kisses me hard. I find myself groaning into his mouth as Gale nips my bottom lip. The unexpected noise of my groan makes me feel slightly self-conscious and embarrassed but the feeling is soon forgotten when Gale begins coaxing my mouth open with his tongue. I let him dominate the kiss, reacting to what feels natural and learning as we go.

I gasp when Gale's tongue enters my mouth fully and he smiles against my lips. Even with my eyes closed I can tell he's pleased with himself.

We take it slower, experimenting with what feels good, and as the minutes tick by I begin to grow in confidence, letting my hands roam as they did this morning. I keep on hand on the back of Gale's neck, keeping him as close as possible. The gap between our bodies is practically non-existent and I can clearly feel the effect I am having on Gale, sitting on his lap. With my other hand, I slowly move it across Gale's hip and in between our hips. As my hand brushes Gale through his pants, the proximity causes me to touch myself too, and I match his moans as our kiss breaks.

I want to replicate the surge of pleasure, which pulsed through me when my fingers met the centre hem of my pants, and selfishly I abandon my first intention to touch Gale and instead begin to rub myself through my jeans. The noise Gale makes when I do, tells me he does not mind my change of course.

"Katniss" he gulps audibly, "do it again." Gale requests breathlessly.

I open my eyes and look to Gale. His breathing is heavy and he is watching me expectantly. I glance down at my hand resting on my crotch atop my clothes.

"Do you like it when I…?" I flick my eyes down to my hand.

Gale nods and swallows again. "Yeah" he struggles out.

This admission stirs something inside of me and as I press a finger to myself, an even stronger wave of pleasure rides through me and a moan escapes my swollen lips. Gale's hands continue to roam my back, and as I lean into them slightly, Gale moves one around to the front, caressing my stomach. My muscles jump under his calloused touch.

Touching myself through two layers of fabric becomes too trying and I swiftly unbutton my jeans. I let out a sharp hiss as my fingers come in contact with the bare skin of my lower stomach. Gale moves his hand to cover mine and I look up into his eyes. Together we begin the dissent underneath my waistband, slowly towards my wetness.

A sharp rapping on the bedroom door causes us to rip our hands away from their journey and stare at one another with a panicked dread. We stare at the door, willing it not to open, neither one of us daring to breathe.

"Hurry up, guys!" Prim calls from the other side of the wood. "We want to play a game before we have to go to bed."

I continue staring at Gale, pleading him silently to speak for both of us. He opens his mouth but it is Posy's voice I hear.

"Please." She begs and my heart sinks as the doorknob begins to turn.

"Okay, okay!" Gale calls and the doorknob stops moving. He lets out a small sigh of relief. "We'll just be a second, give us a minute."

We sit and listen for any other signs that the kids are still waiting by the door. When light appears at the crack at the bottom of the doorframe, I can tell Prim and Posy have left.

I look at Gale. He's got a silly smile of relief on his face, which I can't help but mirror. Falling forward, I let myself rest my head on his chest. Gale draws me close in a hug and kisses the top of my head.

"Right" he says resolutely, "_now _we need to change the sheets."


	4. Chapter 4- Doing 'Stuff'

We change the sheets on Gale's mattress in record speed and bundle up the old ones to take out to Hazelle. I fasten up my pants and straighten my t-shirt in an attempt to make myself look as inconspicuous as possible. I can already tell that the fact that Gale and I have been alone in his bedroom far longer than the time it takes to change his bedding, will not go unnoticed.

Gale stands facing the wall over his dresser where a small mirror hangs from a chain and hook. He's flattening his hair where my fingers have caused it to stick up at odd angles. The look of sheer concentration on his face that I can see reflected in the mirror, as he attempts to wrangle a particularly stubborn section of hair, makes me smirk. He must sense my amusement because less than a second later, his eyes flick to mine via the mirror.

"You caused this." He says with mock seriousness, indicating the unruly lock of hair.

"Yep." I reply, still smirking and popping the 'p', crossing my arms over my chest.

Gale manages to flatten the hair and turns to me fully, the seriousness gone and amusement now in it place. "So you're proud, Miss Everdeen?" he asks, crossing the few feet separating us and snaking his arms around my waist.

I mimic him, moving my arms from my chest up to wrap around his neck. "Oh, I'm proud." I smile.

He twitches an eyebrow and leans down to whisper in my ear. "Oh_ really _now?" he asks, his breath tickling my ear and making my stomach flip. I nod. "Well, I think you need to look at yourself…because I'm pretty proud too."

My eyes go wide and I lean back to see Gale's smug grin. He sidesteps around me and nudges me towards his tiny mirror. I have to go up onto my tiptoes to see myself, the mirror at Gale's eye line and not mine. My mouth falls open when I see my own reflection. It's Gale's turn to smirk.

As much as I have tried to make myself as normal and innocent as possible by straightening out my clothes, my hair in its current state in certainly a dead giveaway to our activities. At the current moment, I may as well have 'Gale and I have been doing naughty things in his bedroom' tattooed on my forehead. My braid, which was reasonably messy to begin with after a day of wear, is now almost non-existent. Where Gale has had his fingers entwined in my hair, the braid has come completely loose, and the only thing really holding things together is the hair tie, which is keeping a pathetic dark braid at the bottom of my hair in-check.

I glare at Gale through the mirror but his smirk remains intact. "Might want to fix that, Catnip." He suggests, and it takes a colossal amount of strength not suggest he goes and fucks himself. Gale seems to sense this and his face softens. "I'm sorry." He says sincerely and comes to stand behind me. I can feel the heat of his chest warming my back through our clothes. My face softens. Gale pushes lightly on my shoulders so I stand flat on the ground. Like this, he is a good head above me.

Gale watches us in the mirror. I'm not tall enough to see anything other than the top of my head and Gale's face in the reflective glass. He looks up at himself, then back down, past my face. I feel his hands move from my shoulders, down to the end of my braid.

"What are you…?" I begin to ask, but Gale's fingers quickly undo my hair tie and the question dies somewhere in my throat as he presses the elastic into my palm, and his lips to the back of my neck.

"Keep hold of that, will you?" he whispers into my skin and I grip the elastic for dear life.

Gale runs his fingers through my dark waves, dislodging any of the hair, which had somehow remained in the braid. With each caress of my hair, he presses another open-mouthed kiss to my neck. A groan bubbles from between my lips. Gale presses his lips to the top of my spine, to the ridge of my collarbone, to the join of my shoulder, before finally kissing and nuzzling the sensitive skin behind my ear.

When I let out a helpless sigh of pleasure, Gale places a final kiss under my earlobe and pulls back. I begin to turn to him in disapproval, but he gently holds my head firm towards the mirror.

"Stay still." He instructs, and I comply.

Gale combs my hair once more with his fingers, pulling the strands that have fallen in front of my face back. He begins carefully tugging at my roots, and only being able to see the concentration on his face and not his actions in the mirror, it takes me a second to work out what he's doing. As his hands work lower on my head, still tugging lightly, and I suddenly realise he's re-braiding my hair.

I feel Gale's fingers ghost over the skin of my neck at the hairline, as he starts braiding down my back. He stops and runs one hand from its position on the centre of my back, up the line he has just plaited, and rests it, palm up, on my shoulder.

"Pass it here." He says, and I silently place the hair-tie in his hand. Gale fiddles with the end of my hair, twisting the elastic in place. "There." He strokes the plait and places it over my shoulder.

I look down at the plait resting on my chest and rise up onto my toes to get a better view of my hairstyle. I can only marvel at how well Gale has done in braiding my hair. Turning my head to either side and fingering the braid that lies on my chest, I can't help but smile. He has done such a good job, that it's almost too good for it to be believable that I have done it. My hair is certainly neater than it was when I arrived at the house today. Not that I'm complaining.

I drop down onto the flats of my feet and turn to Gale. He looks down at me and brushes his fingers over the side of my face, tugging some of the shorter hair out of the braid so that a few strands fall around the front of my face.

"There's my Catnip." He smiles, leaving his fingers resting on my cheek.

"How do you even know how to do that?" I say, curiosity getting the best of me.

"You sound impressed." Gale grins and begins rubbing my earlobe between his thumb and forefinger, gently.

"I am." I admit, supressing a moan at the sensation. I swallow past it. "Who taught you?"

"You did." He states. The confusion must show on my face because Gale chuckles. "Well, you did unintentionally. I've watched you braiding your hair for years."

He's right, of course. Running around and hunting in the woods for hours, my hair is constantly being re-plaited after being caught on branches and brambles, but I can't quite understand how simply watching me has awarded him so much skill.

Something occurs to me and a small smile creeps onto my face. "Have you been practicing?" I ask quietly, and the widening of Gale's eyes is all I need in answer. His hand drops from my ear. "You have! On who? Posy?" Gale doesn't answer me but his ears have turned red. "Why have you been practicing on your sister?"

He shrugs and scratches the back of his head, looking away from me. "I just…you know…she asked." He looks back to me and I can tell he's lying.

"Really?"

Gale looks at me almost guiltily and decides there's no point in lying. He sighs heavily. "I've been practicing braiding on Posy." He admits, and I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it, encouraging him on despite his obvious discomfort. "I just thought that maybe, one day in the woods, when you take your hair out and you start to braid it, I could swoop in and braid it for you, and you'd be really impressed, and…and…" he trails off his rambles and stares at our feet. "Yeah." He finishes quietly.

I stare at him disbelievingly. His admission is something so uncharacteristic and unexpected, that it takes me a moment to recover. I tug at the hand still laced with mine to get Gale to look at me. His ears are still red when he looks up.

"You", I begin, shaking my head in disbelief, "are ridiculous."

Gale's expression is unreadable, but he doesn't look away from me.

"I mean, completely, and utterly, ridiculous." I continue. "You really do make me smile." I grin, and his expression lights up. I reach up and kiss his lips lightly. Gale smiles at me properly and kisses me again, rubbing circles on my hand. "Come on, or the kids will come looking for us."

Gale nods and lets go of my hand. He picks up the bundle of bedclothes off his dresser and we leave his bedroom one at a time, weaving through the narrow gap in the door. I am through but Gale has barely closed the bedroom door when I am ambushed by Posy, who throws herself into my arms. I pick her up and rest her weight on my hip to get a more secure hold. She wraps her skinny arms around my neck. Despite being four, a life of poverty has left Posy much smaller than the merchant kids of her age, and she's featherweight in my arms.

"Katniss, you said you were going to be a minute and it's been _way_ more than that." Posy pouts.

I feel a surge of guilt at the little girl's expression, despite the fact that I am very aware she is playing me and milking the situation for all it's worth. "I know", I pout back at her, sticking my lower lip out exaggeratingly, "I'm sorry, but it was all your big brother's fault." I turn to Gale and he feigns an offended expression.

"It was _your_ fault!" Posy accuses, one arm leaving my neck to point at Gale.

He grins at her menacingly, drops the sheets, and lifts her pointed hand higher. "Ooh, you caught me, Pose", she giggles as Gale lifts her arm even higher.

"Katniss!" she squeals, anticipating her eldest brother's next move and attempting to pull back, but Gale keeps a firm hold and begins tickling her armpit. "Stop…Gale…Kat" she laughs, and I have to tighten my grip on her to stop her falling as she squirms in my arms.

Somewhere behind me I can hear Prim giggling. When Posy's laughs become breathless pants, Gale stops his attack and lets her recover. She puts her arm back around my neck at a slightly awkward angle and I smile as I realise Posy is trying to protect her armpit from more tickles.

"It's still your fault." She smiles, looking at Gale as he retrieves the dropped linens.

Gale stands and cocks his head towards me. "She's to blame too." He remarks casually and Posy scrunches up her face in slight confusion as he walks across the room to deposit the bedclothes in his mother's washing basket.

"What were you even doing?" Prim asks and I turn to look at her. She's perched on the back of the sofa, looking from myself to Gale and back again, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah", Posy pipes up and adjusts herself so that her face is directly in front of mine, "what _were_ you doing?"

My mouth falls open but words fail me. I'm used to this feeling of, not really speechlessness, just, literally not having the words, but now the feeling is also tainted with a thick layer of panic and mortification. I look to Prim, but she is looking at Gale who is unnecessarily folding the sheets he's putting into the washing basket. When both of us fail to answer, Posy gets frustrated and takes my face in her hands so I can't look away from her.

"What were you doing, Kat?" she asks me directly, and I begin rifling through excuses in my head before Gale jumps in.

"Stuff." He says, turning to look at us all.

Posy looks confused again, Prim raises her brows in amusement I just stare at him blankly.

"Oh, _really_!" Prim smirks, looking over to me, her eyebrows getting even higher.

I attempt to ignore Prim watching me and instead look over at Gale. "In what universe was _that_ a good answer?" I ask him and he has the decency to look sheepish.

Gale seems to get over this quickly enough though. "Hey," he defends, "you aren't exactly 'Queen of good answers' yourself." He looks at me poignantly and I know he's referring to our conversation with Hazelle earlier after our tickling incident. I roll my eyes and he smiles, recognising when he's forgiven.

"_So_", Prim says, swinging her legs on the back of the couch, a glint in her eye. She looks at Gale and smirks and my face falls. "What _kind_ of 'stuff' were you doing?" she drags out each syllable until she's practically signing the question.

I put Posy down on the ground and walk over to my little sister, stepping in between her and Gale. Despite my attempt to look as threatening as possible, her smirk doesn't waver.

"Nothing that concerns you, Little Duck." I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Prim looks over my shoulder at Gale; I can see in her expression she's debating whether to push the subject any further. She open's her mouth to make another comment, but is cut off by Posy.

"Katniss, will you read this to me?" Posy asks, popping her head up behind Prim. Having lost interest in the conversation, which was beyond her, she has instead chosen a book from the cardboard box in the corner of the living room. I silently thank Posy for her impeccable timing.

I look over Prim to the younger little girl. "Of course I will, Pose." I say, and as I make my way around the sofa to sit on it, I catch a glimpse of Prim, looking genuinely disappointed at this interruption.

Sitting on the couch, I lift Posy up onto my lap. She passes me the tattered storybook and leans back on my chest. Gale comes to sit next to us, leaving a small gap.

He pokes Prim in the back lightly to get her attention. When she looks around at him he smiles. "You joining us?" he asks, nodding at the space he's left between us.

Prim seems to consider this offer for a second, but smiles and hops over the couch, landing in the space. Posy giggles as we jump slightly at the small intrusion of Prim's weight.

"Will you tell me later?" Prim asks both Gale and I, looking between the two of us.

"Probably not." I say honestly, and she sighs in defeat, settling down between Posy and I, and Gale.

The story is one both kids have heard at least fifty times without any exaggeration, because I _know_ I have easily read it to them that many times. There are only four books in the box, and this is the only one that includes a Princess, making it a favourite of theirs. I'm careful turning the pages and showing the pictures as the spine has been repaired more times than I can remember and they're at risk of falling out at any moment. In fact, some of the pages have fallen out, long before Hazelle acquired the book for her own children, so every so often I have to make up a section of the story to keep it making sense. It's better that way anyway, it means each time the story is read, it's a little bit different.

When I finish reading, and the Princess is happily married to the Prince, Posy is a dead weight on my knee, one hand wrapped around the end of my braid where she had been playing with it. Just like her brother, apparently, loves playing with my hair. Her slow, deep breathing, tells me that the four year old is out cold. Prim, it appears, is not far behind. Her legs are pulled up, knees resting against my thighs, but her back leans against Gale's side, her head drooping on his shoulder. His arm lies on the back of the sofa, his fingers lightly stroking my neck.

"I liked that story." Prim says quietly. I look over at her and don't see the twelve year old who insisted she was too old to share a room with the boys, but instead see my baby sister who for a few years I brought up practically singlehandedly. She yawns and Posy shifts slightly in her sleep, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of an unfamiliar feeling. Perhaps for the first time in five years, outside of the woods, I feel completely content. I'm happy. I make the conscious decision to remember this moment for the rest of my life if I am able to.

Posy's weight on my lap and chest, the warmth of Prim's legs against my own, and the feeling of Gale's fingers drawing patterns on my neck, it's nice. We all sit quietly, Prim looking too tired to extend any conversation, and Gale and I tend to enjoy the quiet over the conversation anyway. I can hear our mothers' dull murmuring of conversation coming from the kitchen. There's a thud and a giggle from Vick and Rory's room, showing that despite being sent to bed well over an hour and a half ago, they're both still awake. I smile.

The murmurings coming from the kitchen gradually get louder and clearer until I can hear exactly what Hazelle and my mother are saying, and they emerge from the room, mugs of something hot in their hands. Gale twists around best he can with Prim still using his side as a pillow, and I crane my neck towards the doorway, careful not to move too much and risk waking Posy.

"Looks like it might be bedtime." Hazelle smiles, putting her mug down on a shelf, and walking over to where I sit with Posy on my lap. The book still rests in one of my hands and she takes it from me, taking a moment to look at it fondly, and deposits it back in the box. "You know" she unwraps Posy's fingers from my braid gently; "whenever I offer to read her that book she tells me 'only Katniss is allowed to read that one'".

I blush slightly and feel a surge of love towards the little girl on my lap. This is the first time I've ever been told this. I look towards Gale who just answers me with an affirmative nod of his head and squeezes my neck lightly. Suddenly aware his hands still reside on my skin with an audience of our parents, my blush grows.

"Yes" Hazelle says quietly, reaching down to lift Posy off my lap and smiling at me warmly, "only Katniss can read that book properly." She lifts Posy gently and adjusts the sleeping child in her arms.

"Come on, Prim." My mother chimes from behind me. "Bed for you, too."

I half expect Prim to argue, and ask more about what Gale and I were doing in his room before, but instead she just nods and stands up. My sister leans down to hug Gale. "Night, Gale." She yawns, "Sorry we have to sleep in your room." Prim lets go of Gale and shifts to hug me.

"It's alright." He smiles, "I don't mind bunking with Katniss."

Prim hugs me but looks at Gale when she says, "I'm sure you don't." and pulls away from me to stand up straight.

The lack of reaction from our mothers tells me that Prim was careful to keep her voice low enough, and that that comment was purely for the benefit of Gale and myself. She grins sleepily at both of us. "Well, goodnight." She says and without another word follows my mother into Gale's room.

Hazelle makes to follow them but pauses at my side. I look up at her questioningly but her expression just leaves me puzzled. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before bringing her hand back to support Posy. "You're…" she pauses, looking to Gale with the same expression. "…You're both such good kids. Remember that." She looks back to me. "Both of you."

I look to Gale, who looks just as taken aback as I feel. Hazelle sighs and carries Posy into Gale's room, closing the small gap in the door behind her. When I turn back to Gale, he's watching me already.

"What was…?" he trails off, eyes glancing towards his bedroom door.

I have no answer.


	5. Chapter 5- Time for Bed

Gale looks at me and shakes his head. We turn away from his bedroom door and settle back down on the couch, Gale at one end and me at the other, our legs tangled somewhere in the middle. He sighs heavily and I rub his shin with my foot.

"She's been very…" he pauses and looks back towards the bedroom door, searching for the correct word to describe his mother's behaviour. "…Sentimental, recently."

"Hmm" I agree, thinking of my own mother's actions recently. Since the reaping it seems she has been making an extra effort with Prim and I; me especially. I recall a conversation she attempted to initiate the week before, which began with 'So, is there anyone special at school…'. A conversation, which I _immediately_ ended with a furious blush and a mumbled excuse about homework, before exiling myself in my room for the rest of the night. I push the memory far away and out of sight, and pile memories of being in the woods with Gale atop it.

"It's just the time of year, I guess." I say quietly, thinking of the reason our families are staying together in the same house.

"Yeah" Gale muses. He changes the position of our legs and begins running his foot up my thigh. "The games, they make people think," he looks down at his foot, climbing my leg, "they make people appreciate what they have." He looks up at me, a small smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. "Family." Gale's foot reaches my hip and he pulls it back, beginning to run it back down to my knee. "Friends."

When his leg starts making its way back towards my hip, I reach out and hold it in place by the ankle. My hand slips under his trousers and I start to rub little circles on the skin above his sock. Family. Friends. He's right, that the games _do_ make people thankful for the people in their lives. It's very little positive coming from a barbaric and horrendous situation, but an optimist would say at least it's something good. I've never thought of either of us as optimists, not that we're pessimists. Realistic, Gale would say. Although realism and pessimism tend to be extremely similar in District 12.

The reaping this year was particularly hard for both of us. For years we've only had to worry about ourselves, well, ourselves and each other, but this year Gale and I had two others to occupy our thoughts. Prim and Rory. A sudden surge of relief pours through me at the thought of all of those I care about being safe from the games for another year. Another year. It's not really all that long, and for all I know we could starve before then, but it's something to hold on to. At least it's another year for myself, Prim, and Rory. For Gale…

Gale nudges my hand with his foot and I look up. "What you thinking about, Catnip?" he asks, and I school my expression slightly, back into one I hope resembles anything but worry.

"Just…stuff." I say, reluctant to concern him with my anxieties.

Gale smiles and raises an eyebrow. I'm suddenly reminded of Prim. "What kind of _stuff_?" he emphasises the last word and I mentally kick myself for my choice in answer.

"Not that _stuff_." I slap his ankle lightly and he laughs. "Other stuff."

Gale goes quiet, his expression solemn. "Tell me."

When I look up at him he's got a slight crease in his forehead. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about you anymore…" his expression softens. "…in the games." I clarify and the crease returns. "I don't know, I just, I always thought when you turned eighteen it would be easier. I'd only have to worry about Prim and Rory-."

"And yourself." Gale buts in, and I smile, my eyes flicking down to watch my hand where it still rests on his ankle.

"And myself." I say quietly. "But, the games was just a once a year thing," I look back up at him and swallow hard past the lump forming in my throat, "when you start working, I'm going to worry about you every day."

"Don't." he commands and I'm not sure whether he's asking me to stop worrying or to stop reminding him of where he's going to have to work six days a week in a month or so.

Either way, I ignore him. "I will worry." I insist, pushing myself up to sit up straighter.

"Katniss…" Gale warns.

"I _will_. Every day you go down there, I will spend every second praying that you will come up again- _safe_." I struggle to stop my voice from breaking and have to swallow again to regain my composure.

Gale watches me, his mouth opens as if to say something but he promptly closes it again and looks away towards his bedroom door. He folds his arms across his chest and sighs heavily, still watching his door. "I have to." He says quietly.

"I know." My voice comes out as an unintended whisper and I'm not sure if Gale has head me. He tilts his head beck to look at me. "I _know_." I repeat, slightly louder. "But it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No it doesn't." Gale clarifies and unfolds his arms.

The sound of his bedroom door opening makes both of us glance around at our emerging mothers. My mother steps into the room first, Hazelle following a second later. Both come over to stand by the sofa, my mother stands behind me and drops something into my lap, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"What's…?" I begin to ask of the garments in my lap but trail off when I unfold them to reveal a grey t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. A blush rushes up my neck and to my cheeks and I shrink down slightly in an attempt to disguise it, holding the shirt out in front of me to hide my face from Gale's. "Erm…" I say, avoiding looking at the boxers resting in my lap.

"You didn't bring anything to wear." I tip my head back to look at my mother above me and I can feel the blush seceding as confusion etches itself on my face. She rolls her eyes but a ghost of a smile plays on her lips. "For bed." She clarifies, and realisation dawns on me. "Prim told me there was only clothes for myself and her in the bag." I have no recollection of any such bag, explaining the absence of clothes for me.

"I forgot." The statement ends up coming out as more of a question as I internally scold myself for having forgotten such obvious items to pack when staying with other people.

"Yes, you forgot." My mother shakes her head. "However, Gale has been kind enough to loan you something of his to wear for bed."

"I have?" Gale asks and I drop the t-shirt to look back at him with his own small pile of clothes in his lap, where I assume Hazelle has deposited them.

Hazelle smacks him lightly on the back of the head. "Yes, you have."

"I have." Gale confirms, smirking casually at me. "Your welcome." He smiles haughtily and I kick him in the ribs with a grin.

"Right then," Hazelle announces, shaking her head at us and looking over at my mother, "we'll be off to bed too."

Gale twists his face and looks up at his mother. "Already? It's only…" he pauses to look around myself and my mother to see the clock on the wall behind us. He squints, and I know without looking its because the minute hand is long gone from the clock so you have to concentrate hard on where the hour hand is. He settles on "nine, thirty…fifty…ish."

"Specific." I quip and he defends himself with a foot in my face, which I attempt to wrestle away from me.

My mother interrupts our joking spat from above me, her hands still rest on my shoulders and I have to resist the urge to roll them off, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "We should all be in bed early tonight." She remarks. "You never know when we might have to get up." She doesn't directly mention the games but we four have lived through enough of these required 'Open to Mandatory Viewings' to know she's referring to being woken up at an ungodly hour to watch the finale of children killing each other.

I let out an involuntary shiver and my mother squeezes my shoulders slightly, but doesn't let go.

Hazelle is nodding in agreement with my mother. She takes a deep breath and leans down to kiss Gale's cheek and pat his shoulder. "Night, kids." She smiles and reaches over to pat my leg just above where Gale's hand lies. I pretend not to notice how her gaze lingers on her son's hand's placement. As innocent as it is, I still feel a blush creeping up my neck. Hazelle give Gale and I one last smile each and retires to her bedroom.

"Don't stay up too late." My mother instructs and I give her a half-hearted thumbs up, Gale offering a salute in her direction.

She smiles and shakes her head again before dipping down to kiss the top of my head. I've never liked affection from my mother. No, that's wrong because I _know_ at some point in the past I crawled up onto her lap and begged for cuddles and loved every second. Those memories from before my father died and even from before Prim was born, still exist somewhere in my mind. It's just that for years they have been shaded by memories of hunger and cold and terror and of a mother who would not answer to either of her children's cries. Those shaded parts of my memories have caused me to lock her out, give her some sort of insight into how she made me feel for years. It's being bitter, I suppose, because she's not like that anymore- but I can't forget. I can't forgive her yet.

I brace for the involuntary feeling of repulsion, which has become a standard when my mother attempts to show me any affection, but it never comes. My mother kisses the top of my head and lets her hands slip down slightly from my shoulders to catch me in a kind of half-hug, awkward and uncomfortable at our angle. But I don't hate it. I don't feel a wave of overwhelming love or warmth either, but when she goes to pull away, my hand finds one of hers and I hold her there for a fraction longer. It startles me and I pull away a bit more violently than I had intended, though my mother appears unfazed.

"I must be getting sentimental." I mutter under my breath as she pulls back,

"What was that?" she asks me.

"Night, Mom." I answer with a genuine smile.

She gives me strange look but doesn't push it. "Goodnight, Katniss, Gale." She says and follows Hazelle's path, leaving us alone in the living room.

I look over to Gale who is watching me quietly from the other end of the sofa. "I guess we should go to bed too." I say and he nods the affirmative, pushing himself back and attempting to extract his legs from the tangles of my own.

He succeeds and we both swing around, perching on the edge of the seat at opposite ends. Gale balls up the clothes he's holding and nods towards the kitchen. "I'll, er…" he trails off and scratches the back of his neck. "…You get changed in here, I'll use the kitchen."

Gale wanders into the kitchen and closes the door behind him. I look down at the clothes in my hands, not blushing this time. Quickly, as to avoid any unneeded awkwardness, I strip off my clothes and pull on the t-shirt and boxer shorts of Gale's over my own underwear. I take off my socks but when stand my feet step off the rug and on to ice-cold wooden floor. The sensation is so unpleasant that I make the effort to only stand on the rug.

The t-shirt is one I'm very familiar with, one I've warn _many_ times over the years after getting soaked or muddy in the woods and having to change in Gale's house. I find myself wondering if either my mother or Hazelle has picked this particular shirt on purpose, or whether it's just a coincidence. It's smaller than most of Gale's other shirts and when he _does_ wear it, it clings to his muscles so much so that his contours of his chest are almost visible through the fabric. I run my thumb and finger over the warn fabric and think that it was perhaps Prim who picked it out.

By the time I'm ready, Gale is still in the kitchen. It's such an odd situation that I'm really not sure what I should do now. Should I let him know I'm dressed? Tell him he's okay to come back in? After a few seconds of deliberation I decide to remain in the living room and ignore his presence in the kitchen completely. I busy myself folding my clothes and placing them and my shoes neatly at the edge of the sofa, taking an exceptionally long time to do so.

It's a bit chilly in Gale's living room even beyond the cold ground, and I'm really not used to being in such little clothes, even in my own house. I perch on the edge of the couch and look down at my bare legs. Goose bumps have broken out on my skin. Even though Gale is much taller than me and his boxers are really quite too big for me on the waist, the length remains quite short. I stand on the rug and smooth out the greyish fabric, once white but now dull with a thousand washes, and look down to where the end of the legs lie.

The hem falls mid way between my knees and hips and I try to make them cover more of my thighs, but the waistline is already resting on my hips precariously and should I pull them down any further they threaten to fall from my legs completely. I blush again, but I'm not really sure why.

"Catnip?" Gales voice comes from a slight crack between the wall and door.

"Gale?" I answer, silently padding to source of sound. I make it almost to the kitchen door before the carpet stops and I have to prepare myself for the intrusive onslaught of cold on the soles of my feet.

"Erm" he says, and I can practically hear him scratching the back of his head. "Can I come back in?" he asks and I can't help but smile at him from the other side of the wood.

"I don't know," I smirk, whispering into the crack, "_can_ you?"

Most would say I was just imagining it, but I am sure I can actually _see_ Gale rolling his eyes through the splintered wood. He lets out a heavy sigh and there's a thud, which rattles the door ever so slightly. I imagine him banging his head against it and rolling his eyes again. I smirk. He does that a lot, rolls his eyes. So do I. I think it could be our specialty, well, besides hunting.

"Katniss?" he whispers with a whine.

"Yes, Gale." I practically sing.

Gale sighs again. "_May_ I come back in?"

At his question I swing open the door towards me. He stands at the other side with an amused expression as I bow low and hold the door open for him. "You, may enter." I say in my best Capitol accent and do an extravagant flourish of my arm to usher him back into his living room.

"Why _thank you_ M'lady!" He too attempts a Capitolite accent and takes my outstretched arm, gently kissing my hand, holding it against his lips long after the initial kiss has subsided.

I let go of the doorknob and it gently swings closed behind Gale. I watch his lips pressed to the back of my hand. Gale sweeps his eyes over me, lingering noticeably on my legs. I feel self-conscious and make a small effort to pull my hand away from him but he holds tight, and I really don't try that hard, anyway. His lips turn into a pout again, still warming the flesh of my hand and I forget all about my cold feet.

Gale lets my hand fall from his lips, but doesn't let go, instead using it to pull me closer to him until our bodies are flush. He wraps an arm around my waist, pushing it under the hem of his own shirt to stroke the skin of my back. I can feel myself break out into goose bumps again but I'm no longer cold. Gale's fingers run down my back and dip ever so slightly below the waistline of the borrowed boxers. I gasp and press closer to him.

I slide one arm around his torso, my other hand still possessively wrapped in Gale's, hanging slackly at our side. I rest my head on his chest, making a conscious effort to position my ear over his heart. The beat becomes louder than anything else in the house, and my hand at his back fists into the fabric of his t-shirt, never allowing his escape.

"You make me smile, Catnip." He whispers into my hair, his hand still stroking my bare back, delving below the underwear every so often. His words are for me. He speaks into my hair and I hear every word coming at me from all angles.

"You make me smile." I hear it through the top of my head as he kisses my scalp.

"You make me laugh." I hear it through my face as the words reverberate through his chest, through his heartbeat and into me.

"You make me happy." I hear his whispered words as his nuzzles my ear, and presses his lips to my neck between each one.

I don't answer him because they're not questions and Gale is not looking for answers, but I reach up and press my lips to his neck, his jaw, his cheeks. I press my lips to Gale's lips. The kiss is everything I cannot say with words and when we pull away, he brushes his nose against mine and kisses me again.

"I know." He whispers; our noses still touch.

We stand in the living room, a tangle of limbs in the dark. My legs begin to ache and I have to shift my weight and lean onto Gale to get comfortable. He chuckles so quietly that I don't even hear it, just feel it deep in his chest.

"Time for bed, Catnip."

**A/N: Thanks for all the really positive feedback, guys. I really appreciate it. Regarding updates, sorry they're not at particularly regular intervals, but I'm back at uni so I tend to write a few chapters at a time when I can, then edit them throughout the week when I get a chance. Don't worry, another new chapter will be soon. Reviews are **_**always**_** appreciated and any questions I'm happy to answer, **

**Panic. xxx**


	6. Chapter 6- I Understand

Gale nudges me towards the sofa and I don't question him, my exhaustion winning out over any chivalry I may possess. Not that he'd ever accept any offer for me to sleep on the floor over him. I know from nights spent in the woods or days crouching in bushes waiting for some passing prey, that he'll always take the less comfortable option no matter how much I protest.

I arrange a couple of cushions against the threadbare arm of the couch, throwing the other few on the floor for Gale, and lie down on my side, awaiting him. It only takes a second for me to realise without looking that I am alone. The usual feeling of safety and warmth, which generally accompanies Gale's presence, has gone, leaving me in the living room, alone. I'm suddenly very aware that the only light in the room is the smouldering wood of the fire and that it only illuminates the space on the floor in front of me, leaving my back exposed.

Although I know rationally that I am safe here, and that unlike when we are in the woods, no predators can sneak up on me, I still feel myself becoming anxious about being alone. A dog barks somewhere outside and I jump at the noise. My face flushes in embarrassment at the display of fright, despite the lack of audience and I scold myself for being so soft.

"The games are getting to you, Everdeen." I mumble to myself, rubbing my arms to soothe the goose bumps.

I'm about to sit up to see where Gale has gone when a wave of blackness is thrown over me from behind, covering my whole body and drenching the world in darkness. Even my small lit area from the illumination of the fire is gone.

For a split second, panic sets in when I cannot see, but the combination of Gale's low rumble of a laugh and the feeling of the fabric on my fingers reassures me that a blanket has been thrown over my body and I am not in any _actual_ danger. Relief I was unaware I needed, flows through me and a grin tugs at the corners of my mouth.

"Hey!" I whisper-shout at Gale, pulling the cover down from my face and dislodging a few strands of hair from my braid.

He grins at me and begins arranging the cushions on the floor, and the blankets he's acquired, into a makeshift bed for himself. "Just making sure you don't get cold, Catnip."

"Whatever." I say, shaking my head, watching as he drapes a blanket over various collected mismatched cushions and pillows. The warmth from the blanket calms the goose bumps, but it's more the smell of Gale emanating from it, which pacifies me the most. I pull it tighter around me and up under my nose, sniffing deeply.

Gale looks at me curiously when I breathe the smell of the blanket in deeply for a second time and I quickly drop his gaze, as well as the blanket, searching for a subject change.

"Where did you get all those?" I ask of the pillows, which certainly did not come from the sofa.

He shrugs, still perfecting his bed. "Vick and Rory. They've got beds; I'm sleeping on the floor. I can at least have their pillows." Gale tucks the blanket's edges under the pillows and stands up smiling. "There." He grins, looking to me for approval. I clap gently, more for the gesture than for the noise, and he flops down onto the pile of bedclothes.

Gale lies down and turns on his side, head propped up by his hand, mimicking my position on the couch. We watch each other from our paralleled stations. I'm mostly letting my eyes roam over Gale's lips and making a conscious effort to not let my eyes dip to the exposed skin of his stomach that I can see in my peripheral vision, but Gale watches me calculatingly. His eyes never leave my face.

I can only stand it for so long before becoming too self-conscious and breaking the silence and his gaze.

"What?" I ask of him quietly, also conscious that we are probably the only ones in the house still awake.

He smirks and shrugs, only one shoulder moving, the other pinned to his bed of mismatched pillows by his weight resting on it. "I don't even know anymore, Catnip." He whispers.

I frown at his cryptic answer and his smirk morphs into a full on grin. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"Like I said: I don't even know." Gale turns onto his back, his head still tipped towards me, eyes trained on mine. He sighs heavily and pulls his gaze from me to look at the ceiling. I follow suit, watching the vague dancing glow of the fire projected on the cracked ceiling.

It's quiet apart from the occasional crack of the wood in the flames. At a particularly loud crack, I have the thought that we should perhaps put out the fire overnight, but decide that I am enjoying the warmth and comforting glow too much to be concerned about it becoming unsafe. Gale and I will be here all night anyway; it'll probably burn itself out before morning.

I continue to stare up at the glow licking the discoloured and flaking paint on Gale's ceiling. He sighs again.

"What's going on, Cat?" he asks so quietly, a part of me delays any answer in order to analyse whether I have in fact, imagined his words.

I turn on my side and find he has done the same. His eyes are closed, but his brow is furrowed. Gale has his arms wrapped around himself, the blanket he brought in, being used as part of his makeshift mattress. He can't really be cold lying that close to the fire, but I still find myself untangling my own blanket from my body.

Gale opens his eyes and sees me standing up. "Katniss, what're you…?" he trails off when I scoot down and lie by his side, draping my cover over both of us. I turn on my side to face him, and he rests a warm hand on my waist under the cover, rubbing patterns on his t-shirt, which I've already decided he will not be getting back. "The sofa's more comfortable, Katniss." Gale whispers.

"I'd rather be here." I reply, just as quiet. Gale smiles and moves even closer to me; so close that our noses touch and it's far too much effort to keep the image of his face in focus, so I close my eyes. The warmth of his breath on my lips assures me he's there, though I can see him perfectly on the backs of my eyelids. I think I must have every detail of Gale's face memorised.

I feel him push his lips against mine softly and I sigh at the sensation. I kiss him back and pull his face closer with a hand on the back of his neck. We're gentle and we don't rush. There's no need. We kiss slowly, reverently; making the most of every second alone we have in this insane situation. I let every slight movement of the kiss overtake me. I make a conscious effort to memorise every little nuance. The kiss comes to a natural end, but Gale doesn't pull back very far and my hand remains on his neck.

For a while Gale doesn't speak, but his thumb continues trailing over my clothed waist and every so often he bumps my nose with his. I think he's doing it accidently until he nudges my nose once more and whispers "Cat?" The nickname ghosting over my lips.

"What?" I say, without opening my eyes. My lips brush his as I talk.

"You awake?" he asks and I almost scoff at the stupidity of the question.

I grin, and before Gale gets a chance to realise the obviousness of his interrogative I reply, "No Gale, I'm asleep." My words drip with sarcasm and I feel Gale pull back slightly. When open my eyes, his face coming into focus and I'm sure I can see a blush rising in his cheeks, though I'm sure he would say it's the glow from the fire.

"I didn't mean for that to sound so…" he trails off and I jump in with a grin and a raised brow.

"Stupid?"

"Shut up." He banters back, but his hand has yet to leave my waist and he's struggling to supress a grin. "I was just checking to see if you were awake."

"Well, I am." I say, shifting to prop my head up on my hand that isn't around his neck.

Gale smiles at me and his grip around my torso tightens. As he grips my waist, the borrowed t-shirt rises up and Gale encourages it higher before settling his calloused hand on my bare skin. The heat from his hand radiates out across my ribs, comfortingly.

It's funny, because I'm suddenly struck with the thought that our relationship as it is right now, whatever it is, was _certainly_ not this intimate just twenty four hours ago. Maybe I should be concerned at the speed to which our relationship is progressing but I quash those thoughts quickly. We've been friends for years and it's no one's business but ours.

I watch Gale open his mouth, take a deep breath, and say nothing, closing it again. I urge him on with my eyes but he looks down and swallows hard. His nostrils flare slightly and his Adam's apple bobs.

"What is it?" I ask, bringing my hand down from his neck, to rest atop his hand on my waist. Gale's eyes flit to the ceiling, avoiding mine. "Gale?" I say slightly firmer, though my voice is still barely a whisper. I squeeze his hand and he looks back at me.

"I just…" he starts, before shaking his head and trailing off. Gale sighs. "I'm not good with words, Katniss." He admits, though this isn't news to either of us, and I'm hardly any better. When he blinks, his eyes stay closed longer than usual. "I want to be able to tell you everything that's going on inside my head."

"You can." I assure him with another squeeze of his fingers.

"I can't." he clamps his eyes closed and furrows his brow. "I'm trying, Cat, I really am. But, there's just so much crap up here, it's, it's hard to get it all organised. It's all just…" his voice cracks uncharacteristically and my chest constricts. "…just one big shit storm of thoughts, and feelings, and lists, and plans, and I can't…" Gale opens his eyes as he stops talking and looks directly into mine, begging for me to intervene with his ramblings.

I don't. I can't, because my heart is breaking at the sight of my best friend breaking and I know _exactly_ what he's trying so hard to explain to me because I have been there so many times before and I never thought Gale felt _those_ things. I never wanted him to feel _those_ things, it's precisely why I've never told him when I felt that way, and I can tell that's why he's stopped talking because he doesn't want me to feel _those_ things…but I _know_. I _know_. And it breaks my heart that he knows too.

Gale:

tall

strong

lean

handsome

a rebel

a hunter

a son

a big brother

a best friend

My best friend.

What I see is not my usual Gale. It's late, it's dark and he's trying so hard not to upset me, I can tell. The way he's looking at me, I mustn't look like his usual Katniss.

He looks at me with an expression that I can tell he's trying very hard to disguise for my benefit, but I know him all too well for that. His grey eyes shine with unshed tears threatening to spill over and his jaw is set, determined not to allow any to fall. I can tell he's getting frustrated with himself because, God knows how long it's been since he _cried_, and he can't work out why his emotions are getting the better of him _now_.

God, I _know_.

I know this. I _know_ these feelings and the frustration and the anger. I _know_ this because I've experienced it too many times and I can't explain it either. I'm screaming at him with my eyes that 'I understand how you're feeling and I don't know why either, and I wish I did.'

"I understand." I whisper against his mouth.

Gale touches our noses together. "I wish you didn't have to." He says.

_Ditto._

We look at each other through blurred vision, two broken teenagers acting like adults; pretending to know everything for the sake of everyone else, but crumbling on the inside. Both of us too proud to cry over something we can't even put our fingers on, because there are more important things to be concerned with:

putting food on the table

keeping the house warm

keeping the kids safe

the prospect of the mines

the prospect of being reaped

the guilt for being worried about yourself when there are kids fighting for their lives in an arena as we speak.

"Catnip?"

It dawns on me, that maybe, I've cracked it. I've answered my own question. All those things. _They're_ the reason we are having these seemingly random urges to breakdown. And they're the exact reason we can't.

"Cat?"

We just can't. We need to be strong, Gale and I. We can't afford to lose it.

"Katniss?" Gale places his hand on my cheek to get my attention. His eyes still glisten, though his jaw has relaxed. His cheeks are flushed. Maybe we've already lost it.

"It's okay." I whisper. He nods twice. "It's all going to be okay."

"Are you talking to me or to yourself?" he smiles, but I'm serious.

"We're going to be okay." In my head it comes out as a definite statement but the way Gale pulls me flush against him and nods vigorously into my neck, tells me it may have sounded like more of a question…or a desperate plea.

"Yeah", he says into my neck and I grip his t-shirt, and nuzzle his chest. "I promise, Katniss. I _promise_, we'll be okay."

"'Promise' is a big word, Gale." I mumble and he kisses my neck.

"I know. And I promise."

Gale presses an open-mouthed kiss to the join between my neck and shoulder and dips his tongue into the hollow there. I groan into his chest, using his shirt to muffle the sound. I feel his chuckle as Gale continues to lavish attention on my exposed neck and shoulder.

"Catnip?"

"Hmm?" an approving hum is all I can manage. I guide Gale's hand on my waist even higher underneath my, or rather his, t-shirt.

The cool air, which assaults my neck when Gale pulls away, forces a pout to my lips and an unintentional huff of protest. I'm slightly embarrassed by the unusual noise that escapes me, but he smiles at my reaction, and sedates me with a rough kiss to the lips.

This kiss is very different to the one we shared before. We're not slow, not calculated; I wrap a leg around one of Gale's to pull him closer and bite his bottom lip. He hisses and begins to sit up, pulling me with him by the hand under my shirt. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth at my bitten invitation and groans when I react to the intrusion. The noise he makes causes a throb to begin between my legs.

At some point as we sit up, one of Gale's legs is pinned between my thighs and I take full advantage of the situation, grinding against him to relieve some of the pressure building up. The movement causes the wetness between my legs to become obvious, to both myself _and_ Gale, and he gasps. We change our position, refusing to relinquish each other's claim on our lips.

Gale turns so that he's leaning with his back against the bottom of the sofa. I straddle him, sitting on his lap, feeling every inch of the evidence of his desire now positioned underneath my wetness. Still kissing him, I rub myself down his length, only his boxers (on both of us) and my underwear, separating us. A fire erupts in my belly and his hardness becomes more obvious beneath me.

"Fucking hell, Katniss." Gale says, pulling away and letting his head loll forward in an attempt to regain any control.

I pay him back for his previous affections and kiss and nip at his exposed neck, earning gasps and moans as my reward when I reach particularly sensitive spots. I tug at the neck of his t-shirt and Gale seems to get the gist, pulling the whole thing over his head and tossing it aside.

I can't control the sharp intake of breath I make on seeing Gale's chest completely exposed and at my will. I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his chest and raking my teeth down towards his nipple. I'm slightly embarrassed by the action, not really knowing what to do, but the sounds Gale is attempting to muffle and the way his hands grip my back give me a new sense of confidence in my explorations and I continue my journey.

Gale's nipple hardens under the touch of my tongue, the other under the attention of my fingers. I swirl my tongue around it, warming his chest with my mouth, and remembering Gale's earlier kisses on my neck, I pull away and blow onto the exposed nub grinding my hips against his simultaneously.

"K-Katniss…" he hisses. Gale's head falls back onto the couch and he twitches beneath me.

"Shush", I smile, pleased and frankly flattered, that I can cause these reactions from him.

"Shush yourself." He whispers. "Fuck," he gulps, Katniss."

Just his words send a stronger wave of throbbing to my crotch, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a moan. Gale rolls his hips upward, and the way I'm leaning over his chest causes some friction to glaze over my clit.

"Shit." I say into his abs, my head dropping low at the sensation. Gale obviously picks up on this, because he moves his hips in the same way again. I push my open mouth against his bare skin, hoping his body will absorb the uncontrollable mewls escaping my lips.

Gale rolls his pelvis for a third time, emitting the same reaction from me. "You're doing that on purpose." I gasp, attempting to hold him still with my hands on his hips on the waistband of his boxers.

"Yep." He admits, unashamedly, and the evil smirk plastered on his face gives me a new incentive to wipe it off.

"You know", I kiss my way back up his body, giving particular attention to the nipple I failed to lather with my tongue before, "I can do things on purpose too." Gale's eyes widen slightly, revealing the almost black irises.

As I reach Gale's face with my trail of kisses, I hook two fingers of each hand in the waistband of his boxers and tug slightly, revealing a tiny bit of previously unexposed flesh.

"Katniss…" Gale warns, licking his lips. I kiss away his words. When I pull away, I somewhat awkwardly, and not in any way sexily, shimmy backwards down his legs and pull my own legs underneath me, so that I'm kneeling in between Gale's knees.

With my fingers still firmly inside his waistband, I lean forward and nervously touch my lips to the flesh below his belly button.

**A/N: Hey dudes, sorry it's been a bit between the updates. I've been really freaking busy. Anyway, sorry about the wait, hope you like the chapter.**

**As always, thanks for reading and REVIEWS are greatly appreciated.**

**Panic xxx**


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